Daryl Drabbles
by The Original Rose
Summary: Short drabbles dealing with Daryl Dixon's life. Set before and during the apocalypse. Usual Dixon family warnings (adult themes and language mostly).
1. Chapter 1

It's pretty much fluff with a little angst thrown in.

Usual Dixon family warnings.

Disclaimers: The song mentioned in "Memory" is obviously not mine and belongs to the mentioned band.  
TWD and its characters/storyline/plot etc. do not belong to me either.

Thank you to those who reviewed/favourited my last story!

Let me know if you hate it, love it, wanted to throw it off a cliff- feedback on what works/doesn't work in regards to Daryl or the others personalities is always useful when trying to flesh characters and backgrounds out :)

Ta!_**  
**_

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**1\. Beauty**  
Beauty wasn't always about appearances. For Daryl it was soft hair that felt like silk against his face as he was slowly rocked to sleep, a gentle tone that soothed him when the other voices became too loud, too angry, too frightening; beauty was hands that healed all hurts, and those dull green eyes that held all the love in the world for the little boy who could still find a smile after everything. For Daryl, beauty was the vague memory of his mother, forever a vision seen through the rose tinted glasses of a child's worship.

**2\. Dream  
**Sometimes it was easier to live a life of nothingness than to dream of a better tomorrow and be disappointed with the inevitability of failure.

**3\. Love  
**Daryl often regretted bringing back that beading kit for Lil' Ass Kicker.  
He'd scowl and he'd grumble as she forced him to sit beside her for hours on end as she patiently threaded the cheap plastic baubles onto mile long elastic strings, constantly holding the soon to be jewellery up against his skin and proclaiming him 'pretty'.  
But honestly it was all worth it, especially when he was proudly presented with the finished product: slightly haphazard, atrociously coloured bracelets that he would unashamedly wear like love around his wrists.

**4\. Haunted  
**It was only when he grew older that he finally noticed the shadows in his fathers eyes and he would wonder how this strong man could have ended up so low.

**5\. Secret  
**When he noticed the younger man determinedly striding over to him, face set and eyes blazing, Daryl wasn't even surprised to find himself being forcibly attacked with those familiar lips which were clearly staking their claim on the amused redneck in front of the entire group, despite previous conversations agreeing to keep their new whatever-it-was to themselves.  
Glenn had never really been so good at the whole 'subtlety' thing.

**6\. Memory  
**Daryl would never admit it to anyone, but sometimes when he was alone in his truck and that song came on and the roads were clear with no chance of being seen or heard, he would turn the radio up as loud as it would go and he would belt those lyrics out as if they were going out of fashion (not that Nickelback had ever been _in_ fashion), and if he related to some of the sentiments in the song a little _too_ well, then so be it.

**7\. Fragile  
**There is nothing more fragile than the confidence of a little boy who'd been told his whole life he wasn't good enough. Watching his little brother grow up Merle could personally attest to this.

**8\. Celebration  
**Rule 137: When living a life of constant fear brought on by the ever present possibility of becoming a light snack for a flesh eating monster, it's important to celebrate even the smallest of wins. These wins could include, but are certainly not limited to: having a fresh supply of water, literally killing two Walkers with one stone, finding an unopened bag of skittles under the shelving at an abandoned store, and _not_ being shot in the face by a surprised Daryl who apparently hadn't expected Glenn to ambush him from behind a wall in the prison showers with wondering hands and a mischievous smirk.

**9\. Promise  
**The promises you make as a child can be just as important as those you make as an adult.  
Within minutes of meeting Daryl for the first time, Merle learnt this lesson as he sat whispering promises of protection into the new born baby's ears. He just wished that at 11 he'd been physically able to keep his word to his baby brother.  
But by the time strength became a non-issue it was courage that failed Merle.

**10\. Innocence  
**"Wasn' me kid. 'm completely innocent."  
Carl glared at him, teeth clenched, eyes accusing.  
"I'd believe you hadn't stolen my last Twinkie if there wasn't still cream smeared all over your fingers you greedy bastard."  
Daryl winced.  
Busted.

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_**Well, there's my first lot of incredibly short drabbles. Thanks for reading!  
And yes, I noticed the horrible grammar and sentence structure too- sorry!  
**_


	2. Chapter 2

So this is my second instalment of 10 short prompt drabbles.

Thanks to BattyNora for reviewing! Much appreciated :)

Disclaimer: GoT/John Snow are not mine and neither is TWD (sadly...)

Hope you enjoy!

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**_11\. Moonlight  
_**Pretending was easier at night. Under the moonlight every ones skin was bruised by shadows; the real marks simply looked like tricks of the light.

**_12\. Fall  
_**He'd never put much stock in a higher power before, but when the dead start to rise and crave the flesh of their living brothers it was hard not to wonder if humans had finally fallen from Gods grace.

**_13\. Whisper  
_**Her touch was a whisper across his cheek, painful and bewildering, yet so full of hope that Daryl could hardly breathe.

**_14\. Echo  
_**It was like hearing a distant echo of his father listening to Merle speak sometimes. It wasn't just the tone, the voice, the accent. It was the demand for respect unearned, the air of total dominance, so cold and hard and unyielding that Daryl could do nothing but lower his head that tiny bit more to signal his ongoing submission.

**_15\. Snow  
_**Pop-culture references were often lost on Daryl who had grown up in back country Georgia with little access to TV or books. Beth learnt this the hard way after jokingly accusing him of "knowing nothing" and quite horrifically offending the older man who not only thought she was calling him stupid, but also believed that after all these months of forced companionship she still didn't know his name.  
"It's Daryl Dixon, not John Snow!"  
Beth wasn't quite sure whether to laugh or cry.

**_16\. Regrets  
_**Regrets were for pussies and weak ass bitches who were too busy fearing life to actually live it.  
Or that's what Merle had believed until he'd returned home 10 years later to find an 18 year old Daryl whose permanent scowl and refusal to meet anyone's eyes had masked an emptiness too deep for Merle to even try to reach the bottom of.  
So he'd ignored the twist in his gut, shoved a beer into his little brothers hand and pretended that it was normal for a teenager to sit alone in the corner of a crowded room and drink with a single mindedness that spoke of reaching oblivion every night.

**_17\. Beach  
_**It had been years since Beth and he had played "I've Never" and he could have sworn that she'd forgotten everything from that night. Yet there they were, hands clasped, feet sinking into soft sand, and her sweet, soft voice whispering in his ear to open his eyes as she mentally crossed off yet another item from his list of "Nevers".  
Unsurprisingly, the ocean paled in contrast to the bright woman standing beside him.

**_18\. Apologies  
_**Early on, his old man had always been sorry afterward. He'd throw Daryl a few dollars, ignoring any new bruises and cuts that may have popped up, and tell him to buy himself a lolly, muttering excuses about too much drink, '_and besides you shouldn't have been standing in the way should you have boy?_'  
As the years wore on though, the apologies stopped.  
Why should his father have to say sorry when it was Daryl that kept making the mistakes?

**_19\. Imagination  
_**Imagination was a useful thing when all real life offered was the promise of heavy fist.

**_20\. Vanilla  
_**Having the oblivious Daryl quietly barge into the women's conversation and proclaim that he was a vanilla type of guy was shocking enough. The realisation that the seemingly worldly man hadn't picked up on the double entendres present in the conversation and completely believed that he had just offered his favourite cupcake flavour just about set the girls reeling.  
It was Andrea who finally broke the stunned silence, the gaping women still watching the hunter walk off, whistling innocently.  
"Damn, and I had him pegged as the death by chocolate kind."

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Leave me a little note to let me know what you think :)

Oh, and if you liked these, please check out my other Daryl/Merle-centric stories on my profile.

Ta!


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